


A Familiar Kind of Sadness

by tarahptrell



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 09:00:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2767313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarahptrell/pseuds/tarahptrell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John reflects on a fond memory, but can't enjoy it long before feeling that familiar kind of sadness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Familiar Kind of Sadness

He's lying on his side, arm underneath her shoulders because she needs to lay on her back; otherwise it's too much of a strain on her. But she curls into him regardless, keeps him warm, and sighs happily as if this moment could not be more perfect. He's running his fingers through her hair of silky gold and his other hand rests upon the noticeable bulge in her abdomen.

"What'll we name him?" she asks softly, barely breaking the comfortable silence between them.

"I dunno," he replies with a shrug that barely lifts his shoulders more than an inch. "Should we name him after family? Friends?" He chuckles. "Maybe even a classic rock singer?"

She peeks up to shoot him a look and taps him playfully, insincerely scolding him. "My mother had always been a big influence in my life, you know."

"We can't name him Deanna," he replies immediately. He feels he doesn't need to point out the fact that Deanna is far too feminine to name their son that. It's a little obvious, after all. 

She hums thoughtfully, pausing for a moment before suggesting, "What about Dean?"

"I love it," he whispers, grinning before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I love _you_."

He smiles warmly before responding with, "I love you, too, Mary."

\---

John is still lying on his side, but his arms are empty and he's cold without her. He squeezes his eyes shut and heaves a shaky sigh, feeling the tears slip out and roll down the front of his face, cool and wet. How strange seems that the feeling is not unfamiliar, just like the permanent empty weight on his chest.


End file.
